#hsr aeons

He sat beside you like he was always meant to be there. One hand over his folded knee, the other placed carelessly near your thigh.

Close enough to mean something.

Far enough to deny it.

He had always lived in that space between.

Between want and restraint. Between devotion and fear.

Because Phainon was afraid.

Not of you. Never of you.

But of the unseen hands above—of cruel, watching gods who took and took and never gave back. He feared that if he reached too far, if he claimed something too precious...

You would be taken from him before he could even learn how to hold you properly.

But as the days kept passing, it became hard to be rational. 

How could he? When you sat beside him like this, bathed in gold, laughing softly, existing so effortlessly... 

How was he meant to remain untouched? 

His eyes were always on yours. 

Staring. 

Observing. 

Wanting. 

Even now, he didn't care about the pretty cat in your lap, or the shining sun hitting the white flowers. 

You were all that was in his vision. 

Just you, and your mesmerizing smile. 

As if the rest of the world had long since dimmed into something irrelevant.

A single strand of your hair fell over your face, but you were too preoccupied with the animal to notice. 

His fingers twitched. Hesitated. 

And before you knew it, his hand brushed against your brow. 

You flinched, your body reacting before your thoughts could catch up, your grip tightening around the cat.

The feline hissed in protest before running away, leaving you both truly alone. 

"... You had something in your hair." Phainon quickly made up an excuse as he pushed the strand behind your ear. His fingers lingered there, feeling the way your skin felt under his touch. 

A maddening feeling. 

"Oh," you gulped, averting your gaze. "Thank you?" 

Phainon was too far gone until then. Your voice like sweet poison deluding his senses askew. 

His hand didn’t retreat, it drifted. Lower towards your neck. His fingers traced the part where your neck met your shoulder, drawing aimless circles as he stared. 

It felt good like this. 

Like he was touching something forbidden. Something not his. 

"... Phainon?" you called out again. Not moving, not stopping. 

"Mm?" 

He leaned closer, tilting your chin upward, your breath catching as your world narrowed into him.

Your hair slipped through his fingers like water dripping down a broken pot, soft and ungraspable.

Just like you.

Just like everything he feared losing.

And so... 

Before courage could leave him... 

His lips touched yours. 

A fleeting collision of lips that could have been dismissed as nothing. There was nothing special about it and yet... 

You were flushed nonetheless.

....

"One."

His voice was low now. Steady. Dangerous.

"Two."

A warning.

A plea.

"Three... tell me to stop (Y/N)."

He gave you an out.

One last chance to break whatever fragile, trembling thread had begun to bind the two of you together.

You should have taken it.

You should have listened to him. Stopped him, cursed at him for stealing something so precious. 

But when your hands wrapped around his neck, and his found your waist... 

All restraint melted away into raw want. 

Years of hesitation, days of longing had finally given way to mutual, desired love. 

So beneath that endless golden sky, with a lone cat as the only witness...

You had finally found your home. 

... 

That's not right. 

Onee day a black cloaked assassin visited your precious home. 

With every step, he spread carnage and destruction without mercy. 

Fire bloomed like cruel flowers across rooftops, devouring homes that once held laughter. The air filled with smoke and screaming—high, tearing cries of children, of mothers, of men who thought they could protect something that was never theirs to keep.

Hope burned quickly. It always does.

And  in the middle of it all, stood your dear lover, fighting and crying and begging for damnation.

Fury and destruction erupted across the skies painted in grotesque red as the assassin found its next target. 

You. 

The blade slipped into your chest with terrifying ease— practiced and indifferent.

No hesitation. No struggle. Just the quiet certainty of something that had done this a thousand times before and would do it a thousand times again. 

You were never meant to win.

You were never meant to survive.

Just another step, another sacrifice.

Just another story to push someone else forward.

So when you collapsed to the floor of your lover's bedroom, you gazed at the moonlight spilling through the open window. 

The assassin lingered, staring at your broken body for a moment, taking a step forward before hesitating and turning away. 

Your breath came shallow, uneven, each inhale sharper than the last. Blood pooled around your body and slipped through the cracks of the wooden floor.

"... God please," you muttered softly, struggling to even speak. 

You begged.

Not for yourself, it was too late for that.

But for him.

"Don't... Let him..." 

Your vision blurred.

Your fingers trembled.

"Be alone..." 

Because that was always what you feared most.

Not death. But what came after it.

The emptiness you would leave behind.

"He'll just..." 

The sentence never finished. And the plea clawing at your mouth, was swallowed back into your lifeless body. 

God's always remain unaffected by human affairs.

THEY do not answer prayers. THEY do not weep for the dead.

They do not reach down unless something threatens THEM and THEIR divinity.

But the God that gazed upon you, didn't care about your plea or your death. 

THEY simply granted you mercy... Because you had dared to look upon the sky. 

The sky in Amphoreus that was always a taboo, and the gods that lived beyond it... Was something you always questioned. 

And that—

That was interesting.

So THEY watched. THEY considered.

And then, THEY decided to let you accompy him to the next cycle. 

But this time, THEY made sure that you would never leave his side. 

Never again.

In the next cycle you opened your eyes, you had no recollection of your memory.

Beyond you lay an endless field of shimmering gold. And just as you were about to take a step, a shadow fell over you. 

"Oh? aren't you cute?" 

... 

You could only purr back in response

Gods do not protect.

THEY watch. THEY choose.

And above all, THEY entertain themselves.

After all, without entertainment, excitement, sorrow and suspense...you wouldn't be here reading this, right?

A lover who does not remember. 

A beloved who cannot leave.

Trapped in a form that can never leave his side... 

And never truly reach him again.

A devotion stripped of choice, reduced to instinct, to something small and harmless and safe. 

Isn’t it fun? 

Fin

And that would be the end! I was nervous to post this seeing how much love the first part got... But I hoped you like it! Let me know yr thoughts... I strayed a little from my writing style in this one 😔✌️

Part 1

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